The Boys
by CatRose13
Summary: Oneshots of Harry, Neville and Draco. Based in the World of Strange Family, can be read alone.
1. Harry

**Disclaimer:** _I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter. He, his world and friends all belong to JK Rowling. I'm merely playing with them._

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_**Authors Note:**_ _This one shot is Harry's POV of what happens in Chapter Four of Strange Family, it can be read as a stand alone. Or in conjunction with Strange Family._

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**Freedom**

_4 Privet Drive_

_August 10th 1995_

The tiny four year old huddled deeper into the cupboard that was his world. He could hear loud voices and crashing thuds. Combined those were never a good thing, especially once the faint roar of his Uncle was added. That single noise drove the greatest of fears through the childs heart, small thin hands clasped around thin bruised knees, the fading marks hidden beneath the large threadbare shirt stung in remembrance and sympathy. Large green eyes warily watched the cupboard door certain of what was going to happened and also certain that there was nothing that would ever change this routine.

A faint click sounded through the small cupboard the door creaked open allowing a glow of light to fill the room. The boy was surprised at how quiet everything suddenly seemed. A shadow blocked the light, it was smaller than his Uncles. A voice- soft, as though talking to a skittish animal- asked "Harry?" The boy squinted, he recognised that name and that tone. Though he'd never mentioned it the boy occasionally dreamt of a time before his Uncle and Aunt. When soft red hair and kind green eyes had spoken sweetly; when strong brown hands and grabbable metal had laughed and tickled; when soft grey had lightened to sparkling silver and black hair melted into soft fur and _that_ tone had called to the "Little Harry-Pup".

"Harry? Is that you? Are you ok? Harry-Pup, please answer me. Please." The desperation in the tone caught at him, he edged closer and glimpsed the grey eyes surrounded by thick black hair. Thinking was gone, his body catapulted into the surprised arms of the man he'd thought a dream.

"Padfoo", he sobbed into the fabric covered shoulder.

"There Puppy, it's okay. I'm here now, and I'm never leaving again. I swear. It's okay, Little Harry-Pup, Padfoots here."

Big green eyes looked into grey, "Not a dweam?"

"No Puppy, not a dream. I'm here. And we're going to get out of here and go somewhere safe and happy. No-one'll ever hurt you again, Puppy, I swear."

"Mama hewe?"

Now the boy wasn't the only one sobbing, "Oh Puppy." Mournful grey eyes met tearfilled green "I'm so sorry, Puppy. So, so sorry. No Puppy Mama and Daddy aren't here. They had to go away like Padfoot. But Uncle Moony couldn't bring them back like he did for Padfoot."

"Unca Mooey." He remembered warm pretty yellow-y eyes and bedtime storied being told tirelessly in a quiet soft voice, "Stowy?"

Padfoot let out a soft sad laugh, "yeah Puppy, Uncle Moony had quite the story to tell you at bedtime now."

"Padfoo' sad?"

"Yeah Puppy, you could say that." He looked around the small cupboard "Well I think we'll take your blankie and leave everything else here. What do you say, Puppy?"

The small head tucked into the shoulder nodded, Harry, now that he was certain Padfoot was real was determined not to let him go.

"Right. Well I think it's time we get out of here. What do you think, Little Harry-Pup? Time to skedaddle?"

Harry gave a small nod, still not quite believing the reality of his situation.

Padfoot straightened up carrying Harry out of the cupboard. Harry didn't take his head out of Padfoots shoulder, refusing to look at any of the people bustling through the Dursley house, the only sign that he was aware of what was going on was the slight flinch he gave every time anyone got too close to Padfoot.

Padfoot was alerted the instant Harry heard Vernon Dursley by the was the small, too thin, body tensed and braced itself for a blow.

"Shh, shh, Harry-Pup, it's alright. Padfoots here and he'll never touch you again. You're safe now, Puppy, you're safe."

Some of the tension left the small body as Harry processed Padfoots words and the honesty and love in them. His fist clenched in Padfoots shirt as he was carried away from the Dursleys and that life forever.

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05/10/13


	2. Neville

**Disclaimer:** _I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter. He, his world and friends belong to JK Rowling._

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**_Authors Note:_** _This is the conversation that Neville and Bella had, if you haven't read Strange Family thats fine just know that Bella swore in a ritual to do no harm to Alice or her family._

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**Escape**

_Longbottom Manor_

He was a skittish child, he knew this because he'd heard some of his relatives say so. He'd meant to ask Gran if it was true, but he rarely saw her. The relatives said that Gran was doing some sort of weird things and that the attack on his parents had done something to her mind. He didn't know if this was true or not but he thought sometimes that if Grans mind _had_ been twisted by the attack it must have been the most scarily sane mind ever before. Gran was sharp as a dagger and brighter than a _lumos_ and very little ever got by her.  
If the relatives paid slightly more attention to Neville they would have realised that he'd inherited quite a lot from his formidable Gran. Lately he'd noticed that Gran seemed more relaxed and happy than she'd ever been before in his memory.  
At the beginning of the day Gran'd mentioned that they'd be having a visitor later that day. He was a skittish child, one who tended to be shy around strangers, he rarely left the estate and the only people he really knew were Gran and the relatives. And now he was meeting a visitor for the first time in his life. It was terrifying and exciting and invigorating all at once.

She was a pretty lady, he thought she looked tired and sad but still pretty. She was young though to him she didn't quite seem it, however, in comparison to Gran, who was hovering in the doorway, she was indeed much less old. Not that he was really suppose to use that word, Gran preferred matured or well aged, she said old was rude as it cast 'aspersions' on a lady's age whatever that meant.

"Hello, Neville." Her voice was warm like a hot chocolate, "My names Bella. I'm..." She paused as though unsure, her eyes darted to Gran who gave an encouraging nod, his head cocked in curiousity, "I, well, I along with your godmother Lily, was your mums best friend." She smiled softly, "When we were sixteen your mum and I did a blood sisters ritual. So I'm kind of your Aunt."  
His eyes widened as he took in this information, he knew all about his dad of course, the relatives adored telling him all the ways in which he didn't measure up to his dads legacy but all anyone ever said about his mum wa that she was stubborn as all women Longbottom men married were. She was a mystery to him in so many ways and here sitting right in front of him was a person willing to decipher that mystery for him, "Aunt Bella," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  
She laughed and it was like the hot toddy's Gran liked to drink in winter, "You've just thought of something," Her soft smile melted into something slightly more... wicked "You have so many of Alice's expressions it's ..." She shook her head "Uncanny. We'll lets just hope you inherit your dads sense of balance because your mum was clumsy as anything. She could trip on a flat surface I tell you. None of us could understand how she did it."  
He grinned "I trip. A lot."  
"Ah well. You might grow out of it. Ali did, eventually."  
"What, um, what'd she like?"  
"Who? Ali?" He nodded staring rapturously at her.  
"Well she liked herbology-ah plants, your Gran tells me you do too, she'd like that. She liked cooking, though she wasn't very good. She loved muggle fairy-tales and Disney movies. She was determined that all her children would grow up watching them. Do you- ah, know what they are?"  
He nodded, "Gran and I went to the cinema and watched Tarzan once."  
She grinned, "I'm glad."  
As he grinned back she sighed and looked down at her hands, "I wish that they could see you, Nev, they'd be so happy. They loved you so much." He looked down, "Neville Franklin Longbottom, you are the son of two of the bravest kindest people I have ever known and from what I've heard, both from your Gran and from you, they would adore you. If I could do one thing in this world I would make the people who hurt them pay, but I don't have that power and that isn't what your mother would want from me." She looked at him through her lashes, "Your mum asked me if something happened to her or Lily, if I would look after you. If it's ok with you I'd like to try."  
He was shocked, "Wha'bout Gran?"  
"We talked. I'll be leaving England and she's worried about what might happen to you here. She's still your Gran and you'd still see her. It'd just be less regular. If it helps my cousin, who I'll be living with, has a godson your age and he'll be living with us too."

He was a skittish child, easily scared, however, in this case he forgot that. He loved Gran but here was someone who liked Neville rather than Frank and Alice's son, and there was someone his age as well, he spared a quick glance at Gran who was smiling encouragingly, before saying, "Ok. I think... I think I'd like that."

Their smiled matched and in the doorway Gran was nodding her approval. Neville was similar to both of his parents but living at the manor being told he didn't measure up had stifled him, this would help to show him who he was.

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09/11/13


End file.
